Page 98 of Lucy Undying (Dracula #1)

98

Moab, January 26, 2025

Dracula

He seethes.

They interrupted his time with you. That first plunge of his fangs into your neck, that baptism of his teeth and tongue and throat in your blood. They defiled it. And now he finds out you’ve already been corrupted.

Someone got to you before him. Someone else’s blood in your blood, someone else’s presence in your dreams. This is when he takes control, when he takes everything you are. Your blood, your mind, your future.

But he can’t do that, because someone else is already there. They’re fighting him for control, blocking his unfettered crawl through your nightmares. Trying to make you feel strong and loved and supported. You aren’t any of those things. You’re his.

He doesn’t know where he is, nor does he care. They carried him into a vehicle and transported him to another location while he healed. He hasn’t felt pain in so long, and he flinches from the memory of the kitchen. It fills him with shame.

Someone is speaking to him, so he rips out their throat. The others freeze, unsure what to do as their friend gurgles and chokes, desperately trying to cover the gaping hole.

First, he’ll find that other vampire, the small repulsive thing who thinks she can take you away from him. It has to be her in your dreams. He’ll destroy her, and then you’ll belong only to him. He’ll get you back in his arms, under his thrall. Back in your place.

No one escapes him once he’s started. He learned that lesson a long time ago.

A man calmly asks him to please stop hurting the others. He’s ripped out every throat in the room. All the vampires writhe on the floor, trying to hold in their blood so they have enough left to heal.

They should understand not to speak to him. How could he have a conversation with an insect, an ant, a worm?

They are not the same as him. No one is. No one ever could be.